The Half-Blood's Daughter
by ThePotionMaster'sMistress
Summary: Severus has a five-year old daughter he reclaims from the abusive home he inadvertently placed her in. Grandfatherly Albus.


Severus Snape scowled as he navigated an impossibly tiny Romanian village, completely nonplussed as to how such a small amount of space could be so devoid of any real organization. At random, it seemed, the dirt road he traversed would jut sharply to the left of right, the end result being typically being a dead end or yet another entrance into the woods surrounding the village.

Half Romanian, by his mother's blood, Severus knew enough to keep far away from the miniature forest at such a late hour. Mama, with all her usual somberness, had not withheld from her young son any of the horrific legends of those who were forever lost or killed within the many woods of her homeland. Those tales had been horrific and grisly in nature but they were, in fact, true. It was no secret to anybody in the magical world, and perhaps the muggle, that if rough vampires did not make a meal out of those foolish enough to prance about in the trees after dark, the rabid wolves certainly would.

And while his fear of death was usually vastly outweighed by his determination to poke about in the darkness for rare potions ingredients, Severus was prudent enough to accept the fact that he had neglected to bring his silver blade with him on this impulsive mission. Nor did he wish to be sidetracked. Already well past midnight, the impropriety of his intended 'house-call' only increased with every passing hour.

"Are you lost?"

Before answering, Severus turned about the face the woman who addressed him so casually. And it was a fine thing he had done so. For it had been a gypsy woman who had called out to him, the mischief in her round eyes as easily detected as that in her sugary voice. Impulsively, yet surreptitiously, he shoved a hand into his pocket. Relaxing only once he comforting presence of his wand. While he might not have been foolish enough to bring along money of any denomination, much less his moleskin wallet, the fact remained that his wand had been necessary to get him to this location.

"I am not." Severus assured, keeping a firm clasp on his wand.

"Are you certain?" The stranger purred, slinking up rather close to his person. "You look lost to me."

Severus jerked away sharply, her perfume both overpowering and unpleasant. Not to mention that her barely concealed breasts had brushed his arm, nearly eliciting a bodily response he did not much care to exhibit for anyone. Let alone a gypsy who was only trying to relieve him of anything valuable.

"Away with you." He snarled, slapping away her molesting fingers from his pockets.

"Crotchety wizard."

"Thieving Pikey." Severus returned, with double the venom.

With a scowl that was more a pout, the unwelcomed woman slunk off into the forest, no doubt intending to round up a posse of her peers to avenge her perceived slight. But her endeavor would only be a waste of her valueless time. For Severus didn't intend to stay in this gypsy-infused village any longer than he had too.

Retracing his steps, he fished out a crumpled map from his pocket, its hand-drawn nature once more proving to be unreliable and dated. Already, in the brief half hour he since he had arrived, the discovery of newly erected homes had thrown off the orientation of the map. It was, he scowled, nearly useless. Its only true hope of redemption came from the depiction of a garish fountain plastered somewhere in the vague center of the village. If Severus could only find that, he would be able to readjust his sense of direction.

He was half-way down yet another crooked street when a young mother accosted him, calling out to Severus as he hurried past her dilapidated home. Leaning severely to the left, and decorated by naught but chipping paint, the harried-looking mother stood atop wooden steps that looked dangerously rotten and close to collapsing. Fussing infant in one arm, and silver cross to stave off whatever might be bold enough to come from the woods and harass her in her free hand, the stranger called out to him and addressed him in his Mother's tongue.

"What are doing here so late at night?" She demanded. "Haven't you got the sense you were born with?"

"I have business with Anatolie and Zaila Vasile." Severus informed.

"Then hadn't you ought to be with them, instead of making yourself bait for the marauders and vampires?"

Severus bit his tongue to keep from snapping at the mother. As irritated as he was with the way his night was unfolding, Romanian women had the reputation of being as temperamental and dangerous as an unfed werewolf. That fact aside, his prospect of getting updated directions from the woman only sharply decreased if he offended her.

"I would like nothing more than to be within their walls." Severus assured.

"Then God help you," The woman demanded, "Why are you not?"

"Because I cannot find their home." Severus admitted. "I was given a useless map."

Shaking her blonde head, the unnamed woman rolled her dark eyes and gestured to the left with her crucifix.

"You are not far." She encouraged. "Keep to that path until you find the house with all the thresthals in the garden."

"Thank you." Severus expressed, rather embarrassed that he had nothing to offer her in return.

"Get on now." She ordered, shooing him away. "Or you'll find yourself as supper for the werewolves."

Severus needed no coaxing to obey. Emboldened by the fullness of the moon, and the availability of prey, the foul beasts could be heard howling not too far off in the distance. Given the windiness of the night, Severus swore he could even smell them. Walking at a pace that was more akin to a slow jog, he flew along the uneven road pointed out to him, praying to whatever deities might be in existence that they would allow him to return home alive and without any severe dismemberment. Braveness and confidence in his magical ability aside, being ripped apart limb by limb wasn't on the top of his list for prefered ways to die.

Finally, after ten minutes that seemed more like an hour, he arrived at the 'house' the woman had described to him. Although, quite frankly, the moniker of Manor was much more befitting such a well-kept and expansive dwelling. Three-stories high and painted an unsullied white, the not-so-humble abode stood on the cusp of the village and seemed to look down with derision on the decaying homes scattered before it. And just as a generous number of peacocks strolled about the gardens of Malfoy Manor, well-groomed thresthals ambled all about the yard, pawing leisurely at the ground or gnawing each other playfully.

Determined to be out of the open, and thus end his short career as an open target, Severus pushed through the entrance of the silver gate encapsulating the miniature manor. Calming considerably once he had refastened the bolts of the gate, he took a deep breath and pushed onward, determined to see himself victorious no matter how strong or wily the opposition proved themselves to be. He was, after all, no coward.

Without ceremony, and before he could talk himself out of such a brash plan, Severus slammed the silver knocker affixed to the door with great gusto- determined that his presence should not go ignored.

It was a long ten minutes before the double-doors swung open, the smell of freshly applied varnish assaulting his nose and making his empty stomach churn quite violently. Pressing his tongue to the roof his mouth to stave off vomitting what little he had in his stomach, Severus stepped backward to avoid being knocked off the porch by the careless door attendant.

"The master of this house does _not_ give out money to Gypsies." An elderly hag hissed in his face, her breath as rancid as spoiled milk. "Away with you!"

Unamused with being mistaken for a Pikey, Severus curled his upper lip and prepared to viciously delivery a scathing retort to the culprit. But before he could even articulate the first word, much less part his lips, a small girl stuck her head out from behind the foul hag's skirts. Wide-eyed and trembling, the little imp stared at his with the utmost horror, no doubt mistaking Severus as a vampire.

"I am no gypsy." Severus assured.

"Well, _whatever_ you are, you are most unwelcome." The hag growled, brandishing a silver blade in his face.

Unflinching, Severus rolled his eyes with as much apathy as any human could ever hope to muster.

"Calm yourself." He demanded. "I do not wish to harm you. All I ask is that you fetch the Master of this house for me. It is absolutely that I speak to him straight away."

"My Master and MIstress have gone away." The hag educated. "And they have ordered me to turn away all visitors until they return."

Struggling to suppress his rising frustration, Severus took several deep breaths before he engaged the hag again.

" _Where_ have they gone?"

"To Bucharest." The child warbled, helplessly butchering the pronunciation.

Yelping in a most undignified manner, the unhelpful octogenarian whipped her graying head around and seemed to realize for the first time that a small child was hiding behind her. Coloring a deep shade of red, the unpleasant beast raised a weathered hand and made as if to slap the girl. But before the blow could land, the child dove quickly to the left, easily avoiding the wrath of the milky-eyed hag.

"Disobedient little nuisance!" The non-human cursed. "Who told you that you could speak?"

Evidently at least partially blind, the elderly creature stomped after her target with delayed swings of her fist, making contact several times with the walls before abandoning her pursuit of the elusive 'nuisance.' Relieved at the surrender, but not daring to keep herself out in the open, the speedy little gazelle crawled desperately across the tiled floor and dived behind Severus's legs. Unwilling to abandon the girl to what was sure to be a beating, he stood still and allowed the violation of his personal space to occur, willing himself not to flinch as the child ducked beneath his heavy robes.

"When will the Master of the house return?" Severus interrogated.

"Who knows?!" The hag replied, face still flushed. "Certainly not me!"

Choosing to ignore the aloofness, Severus withdrew his wand and shoved it into her face before the hag even knew what was happening. Alarmed, and seeing that she was overpowered, the woman ceased to antagonize and quited right up.

"What your Master returns," Severus drawled, "You _will_ inform him of my visit."

"Who shall I say visited?" The hag asked, having been made docile by the threat of his wand.

"You may inform your master that a man has paid a call in regards to the treatment of a ward left in his care."

"A ward?" The hag frowned, her confusion palpable.

"Yes, a ward." Severus repeated.

"Sir," The Hag proclaimed, "My Master hasn't got any wards."

Temper flaring, Severus jabbed his wand into wrinkled woman's face.

"A girl." Severus elaborated. "Your Master has been tasked with the care of a girl."

"I swear that he has not!" The woman refuted, wincing as Severus's dug his wand even deeper into her face.

It would not take a skilled Occlumens to deduce that the hag was telling nothing but the truth. Thusly defeated, Severus returned his wand to his pocket, at a loss as to what his next train of action should be.

"How well do you know this village?" Severus drilled.

"I know it well enough, I suppose." The Hag shrugged.

"Do you know where a child by the name of Circe might live?"

It was a long shot, but Severus asked away, desperate to locate missing child just as quickly as he could.

"My name is Circe."

For a brief moment, Severus had forgotten the child entangled in his robes.

"The man isn't looking for _you_!" The Hag refuted. "Merlin knows you were abandoned here for a reason."

Still hidden beneath the relative safety of his cape, the child tightening her little arms about his leg at the raised voice, her pitiful trembling easily felt despite the thick fabric of his trousers.

"Abandoned?" Severus repeated, the word leaving a disgusting taste on his tongue.

"That's right." The Hag nodded. "Abandoned. And Merlin knows the parents can't be blamed for wanting her gone!"

"You were told she was abandoned?" Severus questioned, stomach churning painfully.

"Yes, and I can see why. The loathsome little toad was intolerable, even as a baby!"

Severus shook his head, unable to articulate his concerns and niggling suspicions to the frigid beast standing before him. But not because he feared that she might prove an unsympathetic and unhelpful person. Having never been coddled at any point in his life, not even by his mother, Severus can handle an outcome such as that with ease. No. His only fear was that his growing suppositions might soon prove themselves to be true, and that he would have only himself to blame for such an unfortunate outcome.

"Come out from there." Severus requested, struggling to keep his voice even.

"If I come out, she'll slap me."

"She won't." Severus assured. "I'll blast the head from her shoulders if she tries."

Aghast at the threat, the hag hastily scurried backward, nearly stumbling over her skirts as she rushed to put distance between them. Satisfied that she would prove to be a hindrance no longer, Severus stretched a trembling hand downward and fished behind him until he located the girl's concealed head. In a manner that was meant to be comforting, Severus placed his hand atop the hair, hoping more than anything that the child would find the action soothing.

"Come out." Severus coaxed, softening his voice. "Let me see your face."

Giving his leg a powerful squeeze, the fearful child very slowly unwound herself from the shroud she had made of his clothing. It was with no small effort that Severus kept himself from yanking her free or the black fabric, his impatience proving nearly insurmountable. But he held himself steady, not wanting to spook her and inadvertently drive her back into concealment. It was a lengthy process, much longer than Severus care for it to be, but at last, at long last, the unveiling was complete and he stood face to face with what was very clearly and inarguably his daughter.

There was no denying it.

Looking down at her pale little face was looking through the childhood photographs of his mother, the similarities were just as striking as they were unsettling. Everything, from the cascades of black hair that couldn't decide whether they wanted to be wavy or curly, to the smooth and straight nose were the features of his long deceased mother. Even her ears bore an uncanny resemblance to those of his mother, their minutely pointed tips impossible to dismiss as coincidence. But the eyes, those were all his. As black as they were large, and framed by impossibly long lashes, looking into them was like looking into his own.

"How old are you?"

"I think I'm five."

Overwhelmed, Severus sunk to his knees, cupping her bruised little face in his calloused palms. His _daughter_. He had _found_ her.

"Circe." He breathed, nearly dizzy.

"Are you alright?" She squeaked, looking highly concerned.

"They told you I abandoned you?"

"Sir?" Circe frowned, clearly unsettled with all the sudden affection.

"Your parents." Severus questioned. "What were told about your parent?"

"They were gypsies." She recited. "They sold me to my Master when I was born."

Severus shuddered harshly at such an ugly reminder that indentured servitude was not yet outlawed in the magical communities of Romania. He shuddered even more violently at the realization that he had gotten his own child into such a situation.

"Gather her things." Severus demanded of the hag.

"But she hadn't got anything." The Hag protested. "And all matters aside, the child has got _quite_ a lot of mopping left to do."

Severus felt his face flush with color at the callous confession, his rage only increased by the fact that his daughter had not protested and proclaimed ownership of anything at all. Rising to his feet, and once more retrieving his wand, Severus pointed the object at the hag with barely suppressed intentions of murder.

"She will not be mopping anything." He declared. "I am reclaiming my daughter."

"Your daug...your daughter?"

The Hag looked positively scandalized by the very idea.

"You cannot just _steal_ the girl." She spluttered. "You _sold_ her!"

"I did no such thing!" Severus roared, eliciting a yelp of fear from both hag and child.

Not wanting to instill any fear of him into his daughter, Severus once more placed his hand atop her half-curls, subconsciously entwining his fingers in the oily locks.

"Come along, child." Severus prodded, eager to be far away from this hellish manor and the village that homed it.

"You cannot take her!" The hag cried, moving to seize the girl.

Giving in to sheer rage and impulse, Severus released his hold on the child and advanced on the hag, effectively pushing her up against the wall without laying a finger on her. Pressing his mouth as close as he could to her warped ear without having to press his lips to it, he grabbed up a fistful of her ratty hair and rendered her incapable of escape.

"Don't make you kill you."

The hag's face drained of all color and she nodded eagerly, fat tears racing down her heavily lined face.

But while leaving the manor proved easy enough, convincing Circe to leave the property was no small ordeal. Petrified, the young girl refused to budge any further than the silver gates.

"Circe, we _need_ to leave. _Now_."

"I can't." She persisted, shaking her head wildly. "My Master will kill me."

At a loss, Severus kneeled in the dirt, grabbing up both of Circe's hands in his own.

"He will never find us." He promised. "And even if he did, I would not let him harm you."

Rather than reply, his daughter shook her head once more, fiercely hugging the mailbox with all her might. Fearing for both their safety if they tarried any longer, Severus succumbed to pressure and yanked Circe away from the mailbox as gently as he could. Screaming loudly, and then bursting into tears, the girl yowled loudly and earned herself several howls from the hungry wolves hiding in the woods. Knowing how important it was to be far away from Romania as quickly as possible, Severus threw the scrawny girl over his shoulder and all but ran out of the gates.

Wasting no time in warning his child as to what was about to happen, Severus removed his wand and apparated.

As might be expected from a person unaccustomed to apparating, and a young child atop of it all, Circe released a torrential flood of vomit down his back upon their landing in his living room. Before Severus could even set the sobbing child down, and summon a potion to sooth her stomach, she vomited once more, the sickening scent nearly eliciting the same response in Severus. Waving his wand, Severus summoned the aforementioned vial, hoping to coax it down his daughter's throats before any more of her supper ended up on his back.

"Drink this." Severus requested, depositing her in a chair he seldom used.

"I can't." She protested, clutching her stomach. "My tummy hurts."

"This will settle your stomach." Severus clarified, uncorking the vial.

Looking uncertain, the child sniffed the liquid and turned green. Thankfully, Severus was able to thrust a bucket into her lap before she threw up for a third time. And a fourth time. Breaking into sobs at the great discomfort she was surely feeling, Circe clutched the bucket and nearly filled it before the dry heaving began.

"Circe," Severus frowned, pressing the vial to her lips, "Drink."

Wore out from the events of that evening, as well as the vomiting, his child bonelessly obeyed and gulped down the foul-smelling liquid in two swigs. Casting a pitiful look his way, Circe stuck out her tongue and tried to scrape away the unpleasant taste with her dirty fingernails. Sympathizing with his only child, Severus summoned a nearly empty carton of orange juice and placed it into her hands. Smiling weakly, she opened the cardboard with fumbling fingers and gulped the liquid down greedily.

"Do you feel better?"

"Not really." Circe muttered, rubbing the vomit away from her face.

Throwing a ratty rag into her lap, Severus pulled the lever on the chair Circe sat in and forced it into a reclining position.

"Try closing your eyes." Severus advised, draping a gray blanket over her small frame.

Obediently, she obeyed, snapping her dark eyes shut before stretching herself out on the chair. It was not long at all before she fell asleep, the telltale sign of soft snores alerting Severus to the fact. It was only then that he allowed himself to relax, the fear and very real danger of being apprehended in Romania far behind them.


End file.
